The Second Coming of Peter

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"That is bullshit." This was Ashley's initial response to the bomb Peter dropped on me earlier in the week.

"Okay, thank you," I said. "I felt like he actually expected me to be all, Oh, of course it does not bother me that you will be going into business with the father of the woman who left you for your best friend."

"This is the thing," Ashley said, signaling to the bartender that we needed more chips and guacamole and margaritas stat. "It's all how he presented it. He just laid this on you without a plan."

"Exactly!" I pointed my finger at her. I needed another round of margaritas like Ramona Singer needed another glass of Pinot Grigio, but whatever. "If he had been like listen, this is going to be awkward at first, but we're going to get through it, and here's how, it would have been so much better."

"Right, like, I'm going to make it known that I have someone in my life right now, I won't hide you, blah blah," Ashley said. I nodded my head emphatically at her. "Also, the last time he brought up his ex he hated her, and now all of a sudden she's sooo supportive of him?"

"That's it, I didn't know that's what was bothering me but that's it." I dug into the platter of chips. "He loathed her, and so I did too, for him. It's easy enough to dislike your boyfriend's ex as it is, without knowing what I do about her. And now I'm just supposed to do a 180 because her father has something Peter wants?"

"It's kind of icky, if you think about it," Ashley pointed out. "He's all buddy-buddy on Instagram with her now, because her father can do something for him. It's like, where's your dignity, Peter?"

"These are taken care of," the bartender said as he set two more glasses down on the table. He nodded to a group of guys sitting at the other end of the bar.

"Cute," Ashley muttered under her breath.

I suddenly couldn't stand to think or talk about Peter for another second. "I'm hooking you up tonight," I told Ashley. I grabbed her elbow and pulled her further into the bar, stepping around people until we were face to face with the guys.

"Thanks," I said, holding up my drink.

"You two looked like you needed it," One of the guys laughed. He was boy-next-door-really-cute. Brown hair, warm brown eyes, and a sweet smile.

"Yeah, long day," Ashley said.

"I'm Josie, and this is Ashley," I said.

"I'm Scott." Said one.

"Peter," the boy-next-door said.

"Shut the fuck up!" Ashley laughed.

"What?" Peter looked confused.

"Nothing," I said, waving my hand and stifling a laugh. I mean of course.

I angled my body so that Ashley could better talk to Scott, who really was the hotter of the two. Still, there was something about Peter that drew me to him—he looked so sweet, sincere. I bet he didn't have a cheating ex-wife hiding in his closet.

An hour went by likethat. Peter number two and I had a lot in common—and he played guitar. I could just picture him with his instrument strategically placed—

"Josie, we need to go," Ashley said, interrupting the naughty musical montage playing in my head.

I looked at my watch. We had met to have a drink before a college friend's birthday dinner, and we were about to be late.

"Give me your number," Peter 2.0 said. He had his phone out and waiting. I looked at Ashley and she shrugged. I rattled it off on autopilot.

"See you," Ashley said to Scott, who had also asked for her number. We weaved in and out of the crowd until we were outside on the street.

"Eeeeeee!" Ashley squealed.

"Scott is cute," I replied.

"So cute," she agreed. She flagged down a cab. "So is the second coming of Peter."

"Stop," I said as I climbed into the backseat.

"You know what? Fuck Peter," Ashley said.

"Okay drunkie."

"I'm just saying, you should find someone your own age with no baggage."

The cab rolled onto the street and zipped through a yellow light. It's been three days, and I still haven't spoken to Peter since that night at his apartment. I know he's just giving me some time to think, like I asked, but I don't know…if you really want to be with someone, where's the grand gesture? Where's the sense of urgency? Basically, where is Richard Gere climbing up my fire escape with a bouquet of roses? If he's not going to fight for me, is what we have really worth the potential pain this new arrangement could cause me? Talking to Peter 2.0 was so nice, so easy, that I'm starting to think that it might not be.